


A Moment for Honesty

by Gingatt16



Category: Book of the Ancestor Series - Mark Lawrence
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-29 14:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21142040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gingatt16/pseuds/Gingatt16
Summary: Nona and Ara admit hidden feelings.





	A Moment for Honesty

**Author's Note:**

> This begins immediately following the end of Holy Sister.

Ara and Nona crossed the threshold of the refectory, the fragrances of fresh baked, crusty rolls and hearty stew mingling and wafting around them. Nona hesitated, her arm stretching as their entwined hands pulled Ara to a halt.  
Ara turned to face her. “What is it?”  
Nona, unable to meet her eyes, gazed at Ara’s feet, instead. Ara wore sturdy, fine leather boots, a match in quality to her gold-tooled jacket. She lightly bit her lip, steeling herself, and glanced up into Ara’s blue eyes.  
“Ara…can we talk? Somewhere private.”  
Ara’s brows knit in concern. She glanced around, gaze taking in the inhabitants scattered around the long tables, barely contained novices and quiet sisters, their heads bowed over their bowls or tilted towards one another in quiet conversation. At the far table, Clera sat across from Jula, eyes twinkling merrily, hands gesturing, as she recounted some outrageous story about her exploits trading around the empire. Jula smiled patiently, eyes roving as she kept a firm watch on the novices, a few who seemed rather on the verge of devolving from quiet conversation into flinging food at one another.  
“Of course. Where do you want to go?”  
Nona considered her options; there weren’t many places for privacy in Sweet Mercy. The nuns’ cells were singles, true, yet the walls and doors were thin, and it wasn’t difficult to overhear even some whispered conversations. There was the attic of the stables, where once she, Ara, and Ruli had shared a few sips of illicit brandy, procured by Ruli and her clever bookkeeping. There was always their old haunt back at the sinkhole where Ara had found her, but the cold was quickly turning biting and Nona had no desire to brave the winds. The baths were rarely completely empty; besides, Nona didn’t need the distraction of exposed skin if she were to say what she’d been waiting to say all these years. Sudden inspiration struck, and she pulled Ara toward Path Tower. They climbed the stairs, making their way to the long, curved room with sigil-engraved walls. None felt a pang of sadness; the last time she’d been in this room had been with Sister Pan. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since then; it seemed like a lifetime had passed since Sister Pan had single-handedly destroyed Adoma’s Fist, sacrificing herself in the process.   
Ara paused to take in the deep silence of the room, exhaling before walking forward to sit, legs crossed, in one of the overstuffed chairs arranged in a loose semicircle in the center of the room. Her eyes sought Nona, who shook out of her reverie and followed, first pausing to start a small fire in the hearth before pushing another chair to face Ara and sinking into it, feet flat on the floor in front of her. The room already felt sweltering after their walk through the cold and with the burning anxiety she felt, so she reached up, removing her wimple and tossing it to the floor. She hunched over with both hands between her knees, eyes downcast.  
After a brief awkward silence, Ara gave a quiet chuckle. “Well?” she said. “You dragged me all the way up here away from dinner, and if there’s one thing I know about Sister Cage, it’s that she’s always hungry. What’s so important that we couldn’t talk about it over our meal?”  
Nona laughed, raising her gaze to Ara’s. “You know me so well, Sister Thorn. As a matter of fact, I am quite hungry.”  
“I know. That pesky bond and all.”  
Nona’s lips quirked into a brief smile that faded when she remembered why she’d asked Ara here. Across from her, Ara frowned at the change in her friend’s demeanor. Putting her crossed foot back on the ground, she leaned over, taking Nona’s hand and giving it a brief squeeze.  
“Nona, you’re starting to worry me. I know I’ve been away for a while, but I’m still your friend. You can tell me what’s bothering you.”  
Nona took a deep breath, trying to quiet the worry that burned deep in her belly.  
“Regol came by today,” Nona began. Ara stiffened slightly, pulling her hand away and leaning back in her chair.  
“Regol? You’re still sneaking away to be with him? Are you…and Regol…are you…Leaving the convent? So you can be with him? Is that what you brought me up here to tell me?” Ara’s voice was even, her back stiffly straight, although a slight tremor hinted at some inner turmoil.  
“What? No! I mean, we were.” Nona ran her hand through her short jet-black hair, cursing herself for her characteristic ineloquence. “He’s been sneaking into the convent, to see me. Kettle caught him, again, today. Abbess Rose, well, she made it clear I either needed to leave and follow my path elsewhere, or stay. And keep my vows.”  
“I see. So when can I expect to see your back as you walk away from,” a slight hesitation as if she wanted to say something else, “all of us?” Ara asked, her voice icy, eyes as cold as the frozen wastelands.  
“Ara, I’m not leaving. I told Regol he couldn’t keep coming here. I told him I couldn’t see him anymore, not like that. This convent, Sweet Mercy, it’s a part of me. I could no more leave it than I could leave my heart, or my lungs. I told him I would keep my vows.”  
Ara’s eyes thawed slightly, but her face was still a mask as she quietly asked, as if she both needed and feared the answer, “But, do you…love him?”  
“I…do. No, I did. I think. I loved things about him. He’s a good man, for all that he plays at being Sis.” Nona watched as Ara’s face registered a flash of sadness. She hurried on, hoping she could finally manage to express the turmoil of emotions she felt. “I meant,” she took a deep breath, closing her eyes, “remember when we were in gray class, and Mistress Shade forced Clera and me to take those truth pills she’d concocted?” A brief twitch of a smile on Ara’s face. “She asked me who I had a crush on, remember? It was mortifying. I ran out of the room with my hands over my mouth, but not before I’d managed to completely embarrass myself by admitting I had a crush on her! And Regol. And…you.” A flicker of something in Ara’s eyes. Hope? “Then there was that time in Mystic class, when they sent you off to lure out that poisoner and you almost got killed and we kissed and accidently thread-bound each other and Ancestor, I thought I was going to lose you.” Nona forced herself to slow down and take another deep breath, eyes still closed. She wasn’t prepared to see Ara’s response, not yet. “I know you were so angry when I convinced Abbess Wheel to leave you behind to guard the convent. I wanted to explain, but I couldn’t bear to face you. All that mattered was I thought you’d be safe. I hoped, even if we were all killed, I’d have time to say goodbye over our thread-bond. And,” Nona opened her eyes, seeking Ara’s face; her lips were slightly parted, as if on the verge of speaking, her cheeks flushed, her eyes widened in anticipation. “I hoped I’d have time to tell you, to finally be honest with you. It took me a long time to admit it to myself, but when I almost lost you out in the Pillars, I…” Nona’s heart thundered in her chest, her hands trembled. She couldn’t read Ara’s face; expectant, perhaps, frightened? Nona’s voice caught, and she forced the words out in a rush, “It’s you, Ara; it’s always been you.”  
Ara’s words came out in a tremulous whisper, “What are you saying, Nona?”  
“Maybe I loved Regol. I don’t know. But, you. I love you, Ara. Not just as a friend. More. I want to hold you,” Nona reached out and brushed a soft blond curl from Ara’s face before gently cupping her cheek, “I want to kiss you. I want to spend the rest of my life fighting by your side.”  
Now it was Ara’s turn to close her eyes, her lips closed, the beginnings of a smile ghosting at the corners. She reached up, left hand grabbing Nona’s right where it rested on her cheek. “Ancestor, Nona, you don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.” Now she did smile, brilliant as the focus moon, her eyes opening, sparkling and dancing with reflected light from the hearth. She stood, pulling Nona with her. Inches apart, Ara’s right hand snaked behind Nona’s neck, pulling her down. Their lips met in a slow, sweet kiss, similar and yet so different from that kiss so many years ago, shared feelings pulsing along their thread-bond only serving to increase the intensity. They broke apart, trembling, Nona’s left arm wrapped around Ara’s waist, foreheads touching, a gentle smile playing on Ara’s mouth.   
Nona’s stomach, always happy to make its feelings known, chose that moment to rumble loudly. Ara broke apart from her with a laugh, their hands still clasped. Nona opened her mouth to protest, but Ara, with another laugh, stooped to pick up Nona’s wimple and replacing it with her free hand before leading her to the door.   
“Come on, Sister Cage, if we wait much longer, dinner will be over. We’ve got to keep your strength up; you’ll be needing it later,” Ara said, glancing over her shoulder and fixing Nona with an arch look, left eyebrow raised, lips curled in a knowing smirk.  
It took Nona a moment to process the innuendo, and she blushed furiously, her heart suddenly racing. Ara turned her head forward with a low laugh, and led Nona back down the stairs of the Path Tower towards the refectory, their hands still clasped. She hesitated as they passed through the entrance of the Tower, briefly looking down at their joined hands before, with an air of reluctance and an apologetic look, releasing Nona’s hand. Nona smiled reassuringly back at her and followed her into the great room. The novices had returned to their studies, but Clera and Jula still sat together, their meals largely finished, now quietly reminiscing. Jula looked up as they approached, exclaimed, “Sister Thorn!” and quickly stood, enveloping Ara in a crushing embrace. Clera remained seated, a twist to her mouth as she watched the reunion.  
“I’d heard you were back! I expected to see you earlier, but I should have known you and Cage would be off somewhere together, catching up,” Jula said. At her words, Nona shifted her feet, feeling a flush rising in her neck. She caught Clera’s sidelong glance, and her quickly raised eyebrows at Nona’s response. Clera’s eyes narrowed in thought, then widened with sudden understanding.  
Ara, however, was unperturbed, responding, “Yes, it seems the duties of a Lord didn’t suit me. And I missed my sisters.” Jula returned to her seat, Ara sliding into the seat next to her. Nona took her seat next to Clera, reaching out to grab one of the crusty rolls she’d been craving since first smelling them.  
Clera turned to face Ara, a pointed smile on her face. “Hello, Ara. It’s been too long. I’m sure you did miss your…sisters. Just as I’m sure you and Nona had lots of…catching up to do.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. Jula gave her a quizzical look, but Ara returned her pointed smile.   
“Why are you here, anyway, Clera? Last I heard you were off robbing all the other merchants blind,” said Ara.  
“Well, I can only do so much robbing before my purse gets too heavy to carry, so I thought I’d drop by and see how everything at the convent is going. See some old friends. Maybe do some…catching up,” Clera smiled wickedly. Ara rolled her eyes as she, too, grabbed a roll from the bread bowl. Jula, still looking slightly puzzled, turned to Ara.  
“Who’s taking care of your holdings? I’m sure it’s been rough, cleaning up after all the damage from the Scrithrowl. Not to mention all these merchants like Clera and Ruli, charging a fortune for wares. I heard you had suitors coming from all over the Empire! None of the men to your liking?” Asked Jula.  
“Oh, I’m certain Ara wouldn’t find any of those men to her liking,” said Clera.  
Nona coughed, elbowing Clera sharply in her side.  
“Ow!”  
Ara glared at Clera across the table, then turned to Jula, who was looking at Clera curiously. “I gave the title to my sister; it’s what she’s always wanted, anyway. She can have it! I’m sick of the machinations of the Sis; I prefer a more straightforward approach to things.  
Now it was Jula’s turn to roll her eyes. “Yes, what a surprise that you prefer a straightforward approach, Red Sister. You do realize that the sword and dagger are not the answer to everything?”  
“Right, Ara, sometimes a softer, more loving approach is needed,” Clera said, making a kissing face at Ara.  
“Shut up, Clera!” Ara growled. Clera smirked, clearly pleased that her efforts had finally yielded a  
response. Jula looked around, perplexed, then shook her head. “Well, I’d better go prepare for my class with the novices tomorrow. Sister Thorn, I’m so pleased that you’re back with us; it hasn’t felt right without you here. Cage, Clera, have a pleasant evening.” Jula stood, giving Ara’s shoulder a quick squeeze before heading out of the refectory.  
“Ah, yes, as wonderful as it’s been here with you, Ara, Nona, I have deals to discuss with the Abbess. Besides, I’m sure you two need more…catching up for the night.” With a sly grin, Clera started to rise.  
“Clera!” Nona hissed. She grabbed her arm before Clera could clear her seat, pulling her back down. “What are you doing?”  
“Oh come on, Nona. You and Ara have been dancing around each other for years; it doesn’t take much to put two and two together and figure out what’s going on here. You two run off together and come back practically glowing and throwing secret looks at each other over the table? You’re just lucky Jula’s completely oblivious all the time. Although I’m sure if you two keep this up, even she’ll figure it out, eventually,” Clera finished with a smirk. Nona and Ara shared a look, and as Clera stood up, Nona grabbed her again with hunska swiftness, pulling her down with a dull thud into her seat.  
“Seriously, Nona?” Clera said, exasperated.  
“Look Clera, I know you and Ara haven’t always seen eye-to-eye--”  
“Ha! That’s one way to put it.”  
“--but can you, for once, keep your big mouth shut? This is all new to us and we could use some time and some privacy before people, well, know.”  
“I bet you could use some privacy,” Clera snorted. Ara fixed her with her best stony glare, and Nona growled. Clera sighed. “All right, all right. I’ll keep my mouth closed. Although it’s not like anyone is going to be surprised.” Nona growled again. Clera raised her hands in a placating gesture, then put them on the table. “Right, well, I’m going to leave, unless you have any other objections? No? Well, good night.” She pushed off the table with a smile and a wink.   
Nona sighed, her eyes finding Ara’s across the table and giving her an apologetic look before filling each of them a bowl of stew. They ate in companionable silence, Nona’s thoughts racing, simultaneously longing for and dreading the end of their meal and what could happen next. Ara finished first. Elbows on the table, chin resting in her hands, she watched Nona finish with a slight smile.  
“You know it makes me nervous when you watch me eat,” Nona chided. “I’m certain you’re judging my poor peasant manners.”  
“Maybe I’m just enjoying the view? I rather like watching you. Of course, I’d like to be watching you elsewhere, somewhere not so public.”  
A wave of heat bloomed in Nona’s middle, sweeping up to her cheeks, and Ara grinned to see her blush.   
“I think you’ve had quite enough. I’ve honestly never understood how you can eat so much without ending up looking like Abbess Rose,” Ara said, and Nona laughed at the thought of herself as round as she was tall. Ara came around the table, looking around briefly before grabbing Nona’s arm and pulling her towards the door. She hauled Nona after her, her boots clacking sharply on the stone floor and her jacket slightly askew. Her destination became clear as they entered the long hallway of nun’s cells.  
“Ara, wait. What are you doing?”  
Ara didn’t answer, just pulled Nona into her cell, quietly closing the door behind them. Nona opened her mouth to ask again, but Ara stepped close, putting a single finger to her mouth before any words could escape  
“Nona, I think we’ve done quite enough talking tonight,” she said, her voice a whisper. Twining her arms around Nona’s waist she pulled her even closer, head tilted upward. Nona met her lips with her own. Where their last kiss had been slow and tender, this was fierce and full of wanting. Nona tightened her arms around Ara, marveling at the curves of her body, so strong from years of training, yet delicate; so different from Regol and his lean, hard planes of muscle. After minutes or an eternity, they pulled apart, chests heaving and hearts thundering.   
“Ara,” Nona breathed, “I’ve only ever done this with…you know. Never with another woman.”  
“We could always invite Kettle up, to show us how it’s done,” Ara whispered, deadpan.   
Nona pulled back, eyes wide. “You’re not serious!” Ara shook with quiet laughter.  
“Of course not. I want you all to myself, Nona Grey. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” And then she pulled her back for another scorching kiss, fingers deftly finding the ties of Nona’s habit.


End file.
